The Potion Master's Portrait
by A Trail Of Whispers
Summary: Albus Potter stumbled upon a portrait of a certain ex-Headmaster/Potions Master


**A.N. **A spur of the moment thing, something that I thought was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it. Please remember to favourite, alert and **review**.

**Disclaimer: **I own natta.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

Albus Severus Potter didn't think it was fair that the Potions Professor's immediate opinion of Albus was based on his older brother. He claimed that all Potter's were the same, all as bad as the others. But Albus wasn't as bad as James, and as many times as Albus tried to prove that, Professor Zabini would not yield; he would not believe that Albus was better than James.

Professor Zabini never needed much encouragement to put Albus in detention, and when Albus questioned Zabini's motives for disliking him, his reply was: "Detention, Potter," and included the familiar: "You're just as bad as your Father and as troublesome as your Brother. If you were in my house and I got to decide what to do with you, you'd be on the next train home and _never_ returning to Hogwarts. You're all nothing but trouble since the moment you were bred."

And Albus was too nervous to argue, and thus he was put into detention for his remark. He was only in his fourth month of first year, and Albus figured he had more than one-thousand lessons of Potions left before he could finally leave Hogwarts.

So on the evening of his detention, his cousin Rose walked him down to Detention but left him at the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. It was a Friday night, and Albus could think of much better things to be doing with his time than spend it in Detention with the teacher who hated him most in the world.

"See you back in the common room, Al," she said with a smile.

Albus grunted, put his hands in his pockets and departed down the corridor.

It never normally took long to get to the Potions classroom, but on that Friday Evening the journey seemed infinite. He kept his eyes on the stone floor the whole way, trying not to think of the punishment that awaited him until he looked up, expecting to see the door with the classroom number (and other things) etched onto it, but it was just a stone wall.

Albus looked around, _this isn't the Potions corridor_, he realized. He must have taken a turn too far and walked back the way he came, but ended up in an unknown chamber once more. He looked around; it was a long corridor and on the far wall he could see a painting. _Ah,_ mused Albus, _the Slytherin Common Room_, he'd never ventured so deep into the labyrinth of the dungeon, so he moved towards the large portrait and stood in front of it.

The portrait was twice as tall as Albus and five times as wide. It reached almost to the ceiling and the portrait was only an office. Albus squinted and cleared his throat: "E-Excuse me?"

There was no reply. Albus looked over his shoulder and noticed a lack of Slytherin's piled around. Around the Gryffindor common room there were always scatters of students standing around and talking, but there were no Slytherin's. Albus tried his luck with the painting again.

"Must not be it then," Albus muttered to himself and turned away.

Just as Albus took a few steps away from the painting, he heard a voice from it: "What do you want now, Potter? I was conversing with another."

Albus spun around. In the painting, he could see a figure walking closer to him. _Want now_, repeated Albus in his mind, he'd never been here before. Albus realized that the painting was not talking about _him_, but about James. _Great, now even a painting judges me thanks to my brother_.

"I'm not James," Albus clarified.

"Oh I think you are. Don't lie to me."

The voice was surly and unwelcoming, it made Albus grimace. "I'm his brother: Albus."

"_Oh_, your Father had the nerve to name you after the great Albus Dumbledore, did he? I'm not surprised he named your brother after the arrogant James Potter the first, but to put Albus Dumbledore's name to shame... I thought he'd have more reverence for the old man than that. Now run along little boy, and don't return here again."

"Don't – don't be rude please, sir. I'm only lost."

"_Lost_. That's what the Weasley boy once told me, only to destroy my canvas when I told him where he could stick his kindness. Adolescence's today; no respect for their elders or the deceased. Now get lost Potter, or I'll send word to the Fat Lady and make her change the password... without your knowledge."

"You're being rather mean for a dead person, aren't you?"

"I've been dead eighteen years, four months and twenty-nine days. Excuse me if I'm not a energetic, _vivacious _painting."

The man – so Albus discovered – came closer in the painting and Albus' mouth dropped open. The man was tall and scrawny, with shoulder-length black, shiny hair and a large, hooked nose. Albus had seen his picture before – he'd seen it many times, actually, in old photograph books and newspaper clippings his Grandmother and Aunt had collected. The discourteous man in front of him was Severus Snape. The man his Father idolized.

"You're – you're Severus Snape – are – aren't you?"

"And _you're_ the Potter boy."

"P – Please Sir – I didn't know your portrait was here. I've always wanted to meet you."

Severus was silent for a moment, and then sardonically said: "Always nice to meet a fan. Sorry I can't sign any autographs right now – but I'm sure your big-headed Father can-"

"My – my name's Albus-"

"-You're beginning to repeat yourself boy-"

"-A-Albus _Severus_ Potter, Sir."

Then Severus was quiet, and stared at Albus with the oddest look in his eyes. Albus scuffed the floor with his feet for a moment before Severus added: "Albus _Severus_, did you say?"

"Yes sir."

Albus couldn't hear Severus' breathing, but if they were stood face to face, Albus was sure his breath would be quick and heavy – like his own right then. And then Severus peered around Albus' body and asked: "What does your Father say about me?"

To which Albus quickly responded: "That you're the bravest, smartest man he ever met."

Severus' face contorted to an emotion his Father had never described him of having: compassion. He looked at Albus in admiration, _proud _of the fact that Harry Potter had named his son after him after all of the ungodly, _terrible_ things Severus had called his Father in the past. How awfully he had treated Harry and his friends when they were students. It pained Severus that Harry had been the bigger man in this, and in front of his portrait, stood his son. The boy that was overshadowed by his big brother, undoubtedly. Severus despised his Brother, but this boy... He reminded him on someone... Not of Harry. Not of Ginny. Not even of Dumbledore. But of someone more worthy of his thoughts. Someone like Lily Evans.

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What's your sister called?"

"Lily, Sir."

Severus might have guessed. He nodded. "When she comes to Hogwarts, tell her to see me. What's she like?"

"L-Lily, Sir? Well... She's... She's nice – _really_ kind. But she's really immature; she dances round the living room with a stick, pretending it to be a wand. But she's really smart too – everyone loves her-"

Albus kept talking, and it was then Severus noticed Albus' admirable trait: his eyes. His emerald eyes. His almond-shaped, green eyes _identical_ to the ones Lily Evans and Harry Potter possessed. Even as a painting, Severus could remember some of the most important things in his life.

Albus finished talking about Lily, then asked: "Why aren't you in the Headmaster's Office?"

"The scenery can get boring from time to time; there's only so many three-thousand-year-old men you can talk to before you begin wishing you could die again." Albus laughed. "Why aren't _you_ in the common room with the rest of the Gryffindor's?"

"I have detention."

"No surprise there. Why?"

Albus shrugged. "Professor Zabini hates me."

"Why?"

"Because he thinks I'm like my Brother; troublesome, a bully, _menacing_."

"I can see the confusion. Why are you down here then?"

"I got lost. Can you tell me how to get back?"

"Leave this corridor, turn right, then left, left again and straight on."

Albus' face broke out into a smile. "Thank you. You can't get many visitors around here, can you?"

"That's why I like it."

Albus smiled. "I'll come and visit you if you like sometimes."

"That would be pleasant."

Albus thanked him and turned away from his name-sake. He took a few steps and got almost half-way down the corridor before he stopped and turned around. Severus was still stood there, watching after him, and Albus stated: "I'll tell James and Fred to leave you alone if you like; they must get on your nerve a lot."

Severus pursed his lips. "Always."

For the next seven years that passed, Albus tried to visit Severus as much as he could. Lily went to go and see him sometimes, also, but it was only on occasion when she was dragged along by Albus. Albus went every Sunday night and it because a sort of routine. Severus became a Father to Albus while he was at Hogwarts and found himself in comfort with the old Headmaster, confessing thoughts and feelings to him if ever he have them. Albus now understood what it was like to be the favored Potter, the preferred one, and not the boring middle child who was never as 'fun as James' or as 'smart as Lily'. Albus found a true friend in Severus and it was mutual for the painting, too. Albus was sure, that if Severus was alive now, they would be good friends. But Severus was a painting and Albus a boy, and neither Severus nor Albus had ever found a better one.


End file.
